


i feel the earth move

by owlvsdove



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, F/F, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 10:35:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8621140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlvsdove/pseuds/owlvsdove
Summary: As much as Jemma might miss sunlight, and having health insurance, and talking to people who aren’t embroiled in something shady, she wouldn’t trade being May’s partner for anything.
Although, she has to admit, she is being tested right now, because the woman is back.





	

**Author's Note:**

> for leah!!!!
> 
> a continuation of [this 'verse](http://bijemma.tumblr.com/post/152539469326/maysimmons-detective-au) but with some (lbr inevitable) gay added in

 

When you have a problem during daylight, you go to the police. When you have a problem that’s only solved in the dark of night, you come to May.

At least, that’s part of Jemma’s front-desk spiel. Not every client is incredibly enthused to see that the famous Melinda May’s offices are actually just a room with a desk in a dingy LES apartment. It’s Jemma’s job to keep them on the hook until they tell her why they need help. May has strict policies on what kind of clients she’ll take - and those policies change day to day, mood to mood. Jemma’s the only one who’s ever come close to navigating them.

As much as Jemma might miss sunlight, and having health insurance, and talking to people who aren’t embroiled in something shady, she wouldn’t trade being May’s partner for anything.

Although, she has to admit, she is being tested right now, because the woman is back.

Maybe girl is more accurate - she does look awfully young, and is just as energetic and obstinate as someone Jemma’s own age (according to May). Long dark hair in waves, arms crossed tight, firm mouth.

She’s gorgeous.

“Is she going to see me today?” she barrels in, not bothering to say hello.

“Are you going to tell me your name?” Jemma counters, shifting a stack of papers on the desk so she looks busy.

It’s been three days. She’s definitely cagey, this one.

“Listen, no offense,” the woman starts, and Jemma rolls her eyes, because she’s gotten this speech a few times already. “You’re not Melinda May, and I’m only talking to her.”

“You know that this isn’t really an appropriate way to hire someone,” Jemma sniffs.

“What would be appropriate?” the woman challenges.

Jemma stops moving and looks her dead in the eye. “You could _start_ by telling me your name and why you’re here.”

The woman says nothing, just plops down on the couch in a huff. The couch, of course, is May’s living room couch, the one that they watch _Chopped_ and eat takeout on when everyone is gone. The clients don’t have to know that, though.

Jemma sighs, looks to the heavens, and then rounds the desk to confront her. She sets herself gently on the coffee table, and the woman, stubborn as ever, jerks her chin so as not to meet her gaze.

“Listen, I know that you’re trying to protect something private, and that’s hard to let go of. But it’s my job to protect May.” The woman looks at her now. “You can’t see her until you go through me.”

She blinks at Jemma. Then: “Is everyone as difficult as me?”

“No. Not remotely.”

She actually cracks a smile. Nods and sticks out her hand. “I’m Skye.”

“Jemma.” She shakes it.

Ugh, her skin is so soft. This is terrible.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re here?” Jemma prods as gently as she can.

It takes her a while to work up the courage, but after a long moment she speaks. “I’m trying to find my parents.”

Jemma smiles. “That I can work with.”

“Really?”

Not really. Maternity and paternity cases are notoriously difficult as it is, and tracking down two people who (apparently) gave up their child isn’t going to be remotely easy.

But there’s something about Skye that makes Jemma want to just...give her anything and everything she could possibly want.

“Let me talk it over with May. Can you come back tomorrow?”

Skye nods emphatically. “Yes, of course.”

Jemma gets up and strides to the desk to scribble on a post-it note. “In the meantime, why don’t you email me what you have on them.”

“I don’t have much,” Skye says quietly.

“That’s okay,” Jemma says. It’s not. Fuck. This is going to be very difficult. “Anything you know about yourself or your birth could be helpful.”

Suddenly, a loud thump hits the closed door next to them. May’s office. The familiar sound of May throwing her boot at the door in protest.

It’s a small apartment. May can hear just about everything they’re saying. And she’s not happy.

“What was that?” Skye asks, alarmed.

“Oh, nothing! Nothing. The pipes in this building are so…” But Jemma can’t find anymore words. Skye doesn’t seem convinced. “Here,” Jemma says, trying to distract her. She shoves the piece of paper in Skye’s hand and starts to move her to the door. “Just email me when you get home, if you can. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Whatever confusion Skye was feeling softens, and she smiles. “Tomorrow,” she says, and she sounds sort of breathless.

When Jemma’s got the _Sorry, we’re closed_ sign up and the door locked, she open’s May’s office, stooping to pick up the thrown boot before looking May in the eye.

“No.”

“May, please. She—”

“No.” She shoves her foot back in her boot. If Jemma didn’t know her well, it would seem like a threat.

“May. Please. She’s so pretty.”

May gives her a look. “Is that what we’re basing our criteria on now?”

“ _No_ , of course not,” Jemma says. And she wanders back out of May’s office to flop down on the couch where Skye had been sitting, face first and more dramatic than usual. “I’m just saying,” she calls. “It wouldn’t kill you to think of what I want once in awhile.”

She’s teasing, though. May knows that she is. Jemma basically owes May her life.

“Jemma, this case won’t get solved.” May has emerged from her office to lean against the doorway, arms crossed and already tired of the argument.

“Why shouldn’t we try?”

“Because what good will it do to give that girl false hope?”

“You think she might stop looking for her family just because _we_ say they can’t be found?”

“She can’t pay,” May says, changing tactics.

Jemma’s mouth mumbles something about being paid in kisses that her dignity does not consent to.

“That’s hardly a solid business model.” And of course May heard that.

“May, can’t we just take a look tonight?” Jemma pleads. “See if there’s anything we can do to help? If we really can’t find anything we can tell her so tomorrow.”

There is a long pause while Jemma freezes, still buried in the couch, listening.

And there it is. The sigh. May doesn’t have to say anything; as soon as she hears it Jemma surges up off the couch and wraps May in a hug. “Thank you!” Then she pulls back. “I’m going to name mine and Skye’s first child after you.”

There’s that sigh again. Although this time, May actually sounds a little alarmed. “For fuck’s sake, Jemma.”

“Too soon?”

“Way too soon.”

“I’ll try and reign it in before she gets back.”

May sits down on the couch, which is an implied request for Jemma to order Chinese food from the place down the block. Jemma picks up the receiver to the landline on the desk.

“By the way,” May says, as she turns on the Food Network. “You only get one of these. If you get a crush on the next one, you’re going to have to deal with it yourself.”

Jemma ponders that. “Fair enough.”

 


End file.
